


Only God Knows

by Ifrit



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: 3D/5N, Alternate Universe, Cults, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Lesbians, M/M, No Underage Relationship, Religion, They're not actually related in this story, Weddings, Where Dante is an 'orphan' child and Nero is a priest who's sick of his shit, Wives, they're wives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-29 02:37:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20789210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ifrit/pseuds/Ifrit
Summary: Dante, the son of a cult leader, is cast out of his family and onto the doorsteps of Nero's church.  Nero lets him inside the doors, and Dante decides to stay, slowly learning that Nero is nothing close to what he'd imagined a priest to be.





	Only God Knows

**Author's Note:**

> Pwease... take this...
> 
> The rating will change in future chapters.

This wasn’t the first time an orphan had appeared on the church’s doorstep. 

It couldn’t have been a more cliche moment for the occasion, though. Rain was coming down in sheets at the late hour Nero had finally decided to go home, still donning his robes even under the garish yellow umbrella Nico had given him as a hand-me-down years ago.

Just as Nero stepped foot outside, he paused, feeling as if he’d nudged something with the tip of his shoe.

When he looked down, he was greeted with a shit-eating grin framed by sopping wet silver threads of hair.

The kid didn’t look like the usual orphan. He was fully grown, conscious, and didn’t look put out in the least - but he did have an air of loneliness about him. Nero couldn’t put into words how he knew, but the kid looked like he didn’t have anywhere else to stay.

“Got a light to spare, father?”

Nero narrowed his eyes as he saw the kid bite down on a soggy cigarette. “Throw that away. It wouldn’t catch even if I wanted it to.”

Nonetheless, Nero extended his reach so the orphan would be shielded from the raindrops pelting down around them.

That infuriating grin curled around the cigarette, and the kid stood to full height - thank god, Nero was still a few inches taller. He didn’t need to give him more reasons to look so unbearably smug.

“Don’t fret. You’re stuck with me now - unless you think God would think lightly of throwing a poor, helpless orphan child out onto the street?”

He didn’t look like he had a poor, helpless, or child-sized bone in his body.

“Tell me your name.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” That sultry, unaffected drawl was going to get real old, real quick. “Dante, at your service.” Was that a suggestive wink, or was Nero seeing things? It must’ve been a raindrop getting in his eye. No way would this idiot be so brazen as to try and tempt a man of the cloth.

“Dante.” Nero said the name once just to get to know the feel of it in his mouth. “Come inside, then. Unless you want to spend the night in the freezing rain?”

Dante at least had the decency to straighten his posture as he waited for Nero to open the door, and Nero could have sworn he heard a mumbled “thank you” behind him.

After finding a towel and throwing it at the kid, Nero took a seat at the edge of one of the pews in the main hall, motioning for Dante to sit right across from him. Obediently, he did. Just like a dog.

The image of a stray dog fit Dante well - at least from what Nero had gotten from his first impression of the kid. He even shook the water droplets from his hair like a mutt would.

“How old are you?” Nero asked, leaning back slightly with one leg crossed over the other under his robes. 

“17. If I were 18, I’d have tried to make it on my own - but you can’t do anything in this fucking town when you’re a minor without a guardian.”

“Did you come here on your own?”

“My brother threw me on the steps after my dad beat me unconscious. I guess he had more of a heart than dear old dad did.”

Nero went quiet, not wanting to pry. If Dante wanted to elaborate, he would elaborate.

And elaborate he did. “Dad’s a satanist. Not the good kind - he’s basically a cult leader. Likes to call himself Lucifer and tells his disciples he’ll kill God and take heaven for his people. My brother does all the dirty work, though. He goes around… ‘cleansing’ Christian missionaries. They didn’t like it so much when I told them I don’t stand behind all the murder.”

Nero, at some level, felt like he could relate. “Let me guess the spiel: ‘Where did I go wrong in my teachings? How could I have raised such an ungrateful son?’ I’ve heard all that before.”

Dante, who had been recounting his tragic backstory with lazy posture and a detached tone of voice, suddenly perked up. “So you’re the same?”

“Let’s not go that far. I’m not some punk-ass brat who threatened a priest with a crisis of morality.” Nero raised an eyebrow, holding back a tongue-click when he saw Dante roll his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. What about you? You have a name, or should I just keep calling you ‘father’?”

“...Just ‘Nero’ is fine.”

“What about ‘daddy’?”

Nero couldn’t help the way his eyes widened at the joke. “Really?” he sighed, exasperated. 

“‘Sorry daddy, I’ve been bad’ has a way better ring to it than ‘forgive me father, for I have sinned’, you know,” Dante said, that stupid grin creeping its way back up his face. 

Nero literally put his foot down, rising out of the pews with a scowl on his face. “If you want to stay here tonight or for the foreseeable future, you’ll stop with the ‘daddy’ shit.”

Dante kept smiling, though he thankfully shut his mouth. “Good. There are blankets and pillows in that closet down the hall. Sleep well, Dante.”

Nero waited until he was at the door before he got one last shot in. “And kid? You’re ten years too young to think you’re anywhere  _ near  _ my league.”

The look on Dante’s face was priceless, and Nero knew for a fact that same grin that was on Dante’s face moments ago was spread across his face as he let the door close behind him.

* * *

The next morning, Nero certainly didn’t expect to walk into, well…

Dante, sitting on the steps leading up to the altar, legs sprawled haphazardly in front of him and his zipper undone. Of course, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, because why would the mutt make Nero’s life the slightest bit easy?

His appearance wasn’t the thing stopping Nero in his tracks, though. There was Dante, sure, but there was  _ also _ an innocent-looking couple sitting a few rows away from the kid, looking on in horror as he ran his mouth.

“Technically, you can turn piss into holy water as long as you add a greater volume of holy water to the existing batch of piss. So I thought, if my jizz is watery enough-”

Nero didn’t want to hear anymore, and he fucking hoped Dante hadn’t jacked off into the holy water bath. “ _ Dante. _ ”

The kid didn’t look startled, and Nero wouldn’t have been surprised if Dante had taken the conversation down  _ that _ path when he realized the priest had entered the room. Nodding apologetically at the couple all but running down the corridor to get away from the kid, Nero let out a heavy sigh. “Get up. Where the hell is your shirt? And for God’s sake, pull your zipper up. You look debauched.”

“You sure you should be cursing, father? God has ears everywhere.”

“To hell with God. I express myself how I want, and right now, I want you to get fucking dressed.”

Dante’s shellshocked expression was certainly satisfying, but the way it twisted into a smug, interested smirk irked Nero in ways he couldn’t put into words.

Thankfully, he kept whatever dirty thoughts he was having to himself as he hiked his jeans up, really making a show of the simple act of pulling up his zipper on his way to go pick up his shirt. “Enough with the talent show. You’re embarrassing yourself. Are you trying to show off your skill in completing simple tasks like a child?”

Though, Dante  _ was  _ just a child, not even old enough to drink beer. 

“As long as you’re watching, father, I’ll show you  _ everything _ .”

Nero simply rolled his eyes, walking along the carpeted floor to pick up the bedding Dante had borrowed the night before - but there was nothing on the pews, and Dante certainly wouldn’t have stolen a few tattered blankets, would he?

“Where are-”

“I put ‘em away. Thought you wouldn’t like a mess when you came back in the morning.”

A surprisingly thoughtful sentiment from a kid who, just seconds ago, was talking about masturbating into holy water.

“Well… thank you. I have more work for you, if you plan on staying around.”

Dante waited until he pulled his shirt over his head, and in the light, the still-damp fabric hugged every curve of his torso. Though yes, Nero had seen him topless a few seconds ago, the shirt made Dante’s greek god-like figure even more apparent.

These were no thoughts to have about an orphan child, even if Nero weren’t a priest. 

Dante wasn’t as put off as Nero thought he would be about having to do manual labor. “Beats sitting around and doing nothing.”

Leading the way to the basement, Nero asked, “You don’t have any friends you can hang out with?”

“Not anymore. What, you trying to get rid of me, or something?”

Nero flinched where Dante couldn’t see, sensing real hurt behind his joking tone. “That’s not what I meant. Kids your age should be having fun.”

“You call me a kid, but you don’t look all that old yourself, father. How much older are you, huh?”

Despite himself, Nero smiled. “I’m 25. Done growing, unlike you, you brat.”

Affronted, Dante scoffed, “Hey, I’m plenty grown. Well, not grown enough to live on my own, but-”

Nero just turned to look Dante in the eye, one corner of his lips turned up. Scowling, Dante looked away. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You said plenty with your face. Stop smirking!”

Nero felt it was appropriate to return the favor of their first meeting with an even wider grin as he reached over to muss Dante’s hair. “Don’t pout, you brat. Now, have you ever chopped an onion before?”

Extending a small knife at Dante handle-first, Nero raised his eyebrow inquisitively. 

“What the hell… why do you need me to chop a fucking onion?”

“Not just one onion. The whole box.” Nero stepped away to reveal the box in question, trying not to feel too bad about the way Dante’s face fell. “The church feeds the homeless on Wednesdays, but the people who usually prep meals with me are… busy. You think you’re grown enough to do this?”

Dante indignantly swiped the knife into his own grip, holding it in a way that betrayed he’d never chopped a single vegetable in his life. “Just show me how you want it,” he huffed, looking oddly apprehensive. 

After demonstrating how he wanted the onion to be diced, Nero let Dante loose on the box of onions, getting to work on a space on the counter next to the kid just in case any accidents happened. On more than a few occasions, Dante let the knife slip and cut himself shallowly, letting out a loud curse that made Nero drop his own knife.

Licking his wounds, Dante glared up at Nero. Nero smiled back, unflinching. “You can stop if you want. I don’t want to force you.”

Putting his middle finger up, Dante bared his teeth. “Just give me a band-aid and leave me alone, asshole. I’m gonna finish this, even if it kills me.”

“Dramatic,” Nero laughed fondly, opening one of the cabinets to get the first-aid kit. “Here, make sure to disinfect the cuts first.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Even though he said that, Dante sat at the kitchen’s lone table and looked at Nero like he was waiting for him to put the band-aids on for him. As much as Nero wanted to tell Dante to put them on himself, he didn’t see the harm in giving in, just a little.

His long eyelashes obscuring his downturned eyes, Nero focused his gaze on the task at hand. Gentle yet quick, Nero patched Dante up with practiced skill. “I’ll only do this for you this one time. Remember to curl the fingers of your left hand when you’re cutting, alright?”

Patting the back of Dante’s hand, Nero looked up at the boy. For some reason, he looked startled and in the middle of turning away, only offering Nero a soft mumble of acknowledgement.

Confused, but confident that Dante was fine, Nero shooed Dante off to get him back to work. Intending to supervise him for a few seconds, just to make sure he wouldn’t hurt himself again, Nero stood close and peered over Dante’s shoulder. Stepping forwards, his chest brushed up against the back of Dante’s shoulder.

Out of nowhere, Dante let out a hushed curse as his knife slipped dangerously close to nicking his outstretched fingers. Alarmed, Nero grabbed his wrist. “Idiot. What did I tell you?”

Dante used more force than necessary to pull his hand out of Nero’s grip, wide eyes quickly narrowing. “Heard you the first time, gramps,” he huffed, again turning away before getting back to work.

Now Nero was even more confused. Had he said something wrong? Maybe Dante felt what he was doing too closely resembled nagging. Either way, Nero decided it was probably best to leave the kid alone until he finished his task.

By the time Dante was done, and Nero had finished his own task of peeling and chopping potatoes, the teenager had seemed to have calmed down considerably. Which was good, considering Nero really couldn’t finish cooking enough food for a hundred people all on his own.

“We’re making stew, so I have to go fill this entire pot with water.” Rolling up his sleeves, he bent down to pick up a pot the height of his torso. “Could you start the stove?”

Dante nodded absently, not looking at Nero’s face before he went over to the sink to fill up the pot. When it was full, Nero lugged it back over to the stove, forearms straining with the force it took to carry the weight - but Nero was used to it, showing no obvious signs of exertion.

Unfortunately, Dante hadn’t done the simple task Nero had assigned him. “Hey, brat. What are you doing, just standing there daydreaming? All you had to do was turn the dial!”

Dante seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in, his gaze shooting up from the pot to Nero’s face. “S-sorry!” He stammered, quickly trying to light the gas stove. However, no fire would catch.

“You need to push it down before you turn it, like this,” Nero sighed, coming up close behind Dante to grab the dial with Dante’s hand still on it. The kid froze, standing stock still while Nero failed to notice the sudden change in behavior, instead grabbing the pot to set on the flame.

“Did you get enough sleep last night? You’re acting strange. Stranger than I think you normally would,” Nero laughed, slapping a palm on Dante’s forehead to make sure he didn’t have a fever or anything of the sort.

Still frozen, Dante’s eyes slowly climbed up from Nero’s (too close) chest up to his gaze. After a few moments of silence, he closed his eyes, resting his head against Nero’s palm for a few seconds - until his eyes suddenly flew open and he backed away, knocking over a few pieces of onion to the floor in his wake. 

“I think I have… some homework to do,” Dante slowly, deliberately said, before turning and running up the stairs. 

More confused than ever, Nero watched Dante’s retreating figure, his only thought being how the hell he was going to finish all this work on his own.

* * *

**-One month later-**

“So. This is the kid? He looks skinny. Are ya feeding him enough? Feed him more, asshole.”

“Nico’s right, he does look a bit lean.”

“His diet isn’t just communion wafers, is it? Though you should be givin’ him the wine. The blood of Christ is good for growing boys, you know-”

“I’m sure Dante would appreciate it if you two would stop prodding him and gave him some space,” Nero sighed, trying to rescue Dante from Nico and Kyrie’s interrogation.

“You’re no fun,” Nico pouted. “I just wanted to get to know the kid.”

“I’m just worried about your ability to take care of children when I’m not around to help,” Kyrie softly chuckled, stepping back and setting a hand on Nero’s shoulder. 

Nero pushed past the two of them, protectively throwing an arm around Dante’s shoulders. “Don’t be menaces. He’s doing just fine with me, aren’t you, Dante?”

“Though I definitely don’t want to object to two beautiful ladies giving me attention, I don’t know if Nero’s virgin heart could handle all that affection.” Dante incrementally leaned into Nero’s touch, the motion not obvious for anyone but Nero to notice.

He took this as a sign that Dante was finally and completely warmed up to him after just a short time of staying at the church. Nero had put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into shaping Dante up and getting him to trust and respect him. 

However, Nico and Kyrie being here meant that whatever respect Nero had garnered from Dante was about to crumble into dust.

“Hah!  _ Virgin?! _ ” Nico guffawed, honest-to-god slapping her knee with laughter. Kyrie was no better, and her version of knee-slapping was covering her entire face with her hands to hide her silent laughter.

“Don’t,” Nero warned, though it was too late. Dante’s interest was piqued, and Nero’s life and career as a priest was over. “What, Nero’s had sex before?”

“Lots of it!” Nico gleefully supplied. “He used to be a… what would you call it, Kyrie?”

“I think the term you liked to use was ‘manwhore’, darling.” 

“Right, a manwhore, back in the day. Wasn’t until he ‘found Jesus’ that he shaped up and stopped-”

“Enough.” Nero sighed, feeling unreasonably tired for the time of day it was. “Dante, don’t listen to them.”

“Sure, Father,” Dante smirked, and by now, Nero was far,  _ far  _ too familiar with that smirk. “Don’t you have to prepare for tomorrow’s sermon? Let me keep these two ladies company.”

Goddammit. 

But, Dante was right. Nero did desperately need to get his work done, and he trusted Kyrie to make sure Nico didn’t let anything  _ too _ private slip while he was gone. “Fine. But you’re banned from asking me any personal questions for the next 48 hours.”

Ignoring Dante and Nico’s puppy eyes, he swiftly took off to the second floor so he could focus on his sermon.

Meanwhile, Nico wasted no time in spilling all of Nero’s dirty little secrets to the over-enthusiastic Dante - or, she would have, if Kyrie hadn’t stopped her. 

“Ask some less… ‘exciting’ questions, Dante. Is there anything else you’d like to know about Nero? I know he isn’t the most forthcoming with anything related to his past.”

“I’m still kinda stuck on the ‘manwhore’ thing, to be honest. But… how do you know Nero? He’s mentioned you guys before, but all I know is that you’re all friends.”

“I’ve been Nero’s friend since trade school. We were trying to learn how to be mechanics so we could open up a shop together - though it didn’t really pan out for him. I’ve got a shop of my own, though, and I let him play around from time to time.”

“So… I could come over and see what you do, right?” Dante had a sparkle in his eye, one that Nico took a real liking to. 

“Of course, kid. Maybe I’ll even let you get your hands dirty. How’s that sound?”

Dante lit up like a Christmas tree, though he tried to hide his enthusiasm once he realized what kind of expression he had on. Coughing to calm himself down, he turned to Kyrie. “Kyrie, did you go to trade school, too?”

“Oh, no. Nero never told you? I’m his sister.”

Dante furrowed his brow, silently answering Kyrie’s question. 

“Hey, you’re not just his sister. You’re gonna be my wife too, ain’t you?”

“I’m excited for the wedding, too, Nico, but you don’t have to announce it to every new person we meet.” Though Kyrie appeared to chide Nico, a blush bloomed across her cheeks. 

“...Wife?” Dante said distantly, a strangeness in his tone the girls instantly picked up on. “And Nero’s okay with that?”

“Okay with what, us loving each other?” Nico immediately became defensive, though Kyrie put a hand on her thigh to calm her down. “Yes, he is. He’s officiating the wedding. Do you… have a problem with that?” Her tone and expression were level, but Nico could feel her grip tighten in anticipation.

“No - no! Of course not, I was just - surprised. Since he’s a priest, and all.” Dante frantically shook his head as he attempted to explain his confusion.

“If you haven’t noticed already, Nero’s not your average priest,” Kyrie laughed, letting go of Nico’s thigh so she could hold her hand instead. “Though Nico and I would love to elaborate on Nero’s… past, I think you should ask him yourself.”

Both Dante and Nico groaned in disappointment. “He’s never gonna tell me,” the teenager sighed, slumping against the bench. 

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Kyrie cryptically replied. “Here comes your chance to ask.”

Nero had returned to the main hall, eyeing Nico and Kyrie critically. “If you’re trying to get him to ask me questions, I already said I wouldn’t answer any of them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dante sighed, waving his hand loosely in the air. “Actually, I’m more interested in knowing when the wedding is, and if I’m invited.”

“The wedding? Oh, you told him. You’re gonna regret letting this brat know about it. He’s a real piece of work.” Tone nothing but fond, Nero took a seat next to Dante and again draped an arm around the kid’s shoulders. 

This time, now that Kyrie was really looking, she noticed the way Dante tensed up slightly before he leaned into Nero’s space. And this is when she knew, before Dante even knew himself.

“Of course he’s invited! The theme’s ‘Making Nero’s life a livin’ hell,’” Nico grinned, winking over at Nero.

“It’s in six months. We’d love it if you could be there - here, actually. The ceremony’s going to be held right in this very hall.” Kyrie smiled gently, knowingly, at Dante, drawing a slightly confused expression from the boy at her slightly pointed look.

“If that’s the theme, I have to be there, don’t I?” Dante grinned, rapping his knuckles against Nero’s chest. “You agreed to officiate their wedding, so you can’t complain.”

“I can complain however damn much I want,” Nero grumbled, though he fondly began mussing up Dante’s hair. He relaxed into his touch, so much so that he made a small sound of protest when Nero gently lifted Dante off of him so he could get up.

“I only came back for a quick break so I could make sure you weren’t up to no good. I need to go and finish my work.” Ruffling Dante’s hair one more time for good measure, the priest left the three of them alone once again.

“I should get back to work, too. I got a client comin’ in thirty minutes - I’ll see you at home, babe.” Nico gave Kyrie a quick kiss before making a hasty exit, and now, it was just Kyrie and Dante sitting in the pews before the large, imposing statue of Jesus on the altar.

After a bit of silence, Kyrie turned to Dante. “You don’t plan on confessing just yet, do you?”

“Confessing? Like in one of the booths?”

“No, to Nero. About your feelings for him.”

Dante couldn’t respond properly, air catching in his throat and making him cough violently. Calming down after a bit, he hissed, “What are you-”

“I noticed, Dante. You love him, don’t you?”

“I don’t! He’s just - he’s the only person I have, so I… I…”

Smiling softly, Kyrie leaned over to brush a soothing hand through his hair. “It’s better if you spend less time in denial. Think about it, and if your feelings are purely platonic, forget what I’ve said - but I don’t think that’s the case.”

“What-”

“Just think about it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to make sure Nico eats while she’s hyperfocused on her work.” Kyrie rose from the bench, still smiling down at Dante. “No matter what, Nero will accept you as you are, just as he accepts us. Don’t be afraid of your own feelings.”

With that, she left, and now Dante was alone, staring vacantly ahead at nothing in particular. No matter what Kyrie said, and no matter how accepting Nero was… that didn’t mean he liked guys. And besides, Dante didn’t have feelings for him. Right?

...Right?


End file.
